


Thursday

by anoetic



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Established Relationship, Light D/s, Loss of Control, M/M, violent imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoetic/pseuds/anoetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They look at each other and it’s like seeing the color red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> Short yet sweet. Comments are always appreciated and welcome.

He’s fucking beautiful, a good dream, hot skin the color of milk and sunflowers, a dangerous thing whose root was innocent and sweet, the dearest of all boys and that makes it all the more exhilarating, unforgiving; the deflowering, dent of the halo, warm tongue wet kiss butterflies wreathed in messy knots of sighs, desperation and broken voices. Bill is fucking beautiful this way: ripened, unfurled, bitter and absolutely his in the palm of his hands. Bill comes to Tom often like that, sacrificial, poisonous, shameless, his eyes glossed over and destruction riding on the tip of his tongue, flowering between his legs. He juts his hips into Tom’s like knives, he hopes he stings, leaves bruises on Tom’s skin, it’s the only way that he’ll be remembered properly, as mistakes should be, but Bill was the wrath of god condensed, captured, created in the prettiest shade of sin and when Tom’s fingers caress the warmth of his stomach, high plains of flesh and goosebumps chasing across ridges of rib and flesh Bill curses breathlessly through his teeth, grating his nails across the length of Tom’s back.

They look at each other and it’s like seeing the color red.

Tom likes this more than he should: seek, devour, desecrate. Bill was his sweetest boy, his dearest of all things and he is unspeakably beautiful to him at this moment. Tom wants those lips, pretty and prim, made to slobber and salivate over his dick as he has trained them to do for countless months. Bill asks Tom for a kiss with his hipbones digging knives into his waist again. His hunger makes Tom grin proudly as he grabs his brother by the back of his head, nails digging into blond roots, crushing his mouth against Bill’s, he’s bleeding sex, overflowing from the crown of his pretty head to the soles of his feet and Tom has never felt more satisfied of his creation. He tastes teeth, cool metal, late night cigarettes and moans of his name onto his tongue and it makes Tom groan excitedly against Bill’s mouth, grazing the shell of his bottom lip with his teeth, butterflies and terror running down his spine, his hands are marking their territory, mapping the wildfires of Bill’s body with hot fingertips. Bill sighs lovingly in the heat of his brother’s mouth, his thoughts dimming and his jeans tightening. every bone in his body trembles, screaming for Tom to take him, break him, fuck him, _ruin him_.

Bill has been craving this all week, his fingers tired of being tired every morning and night. He’s ready to burst, every tendon coiling further and tighter whenever Tom would look at him and deny him so tenderly with the softness of Bill’s name rolling off of his lips. “Off,” he says, gritting diamonds between his teeth he has them clenched so harshly. Bill greedily sucks on Tom’s bottom lip, pink tongue obscenely curling itself around his lip ring as he guides Tom’s other hand to the bulge in his pants, further enticing him with a cruel jerk of his waist into Tom’s palm. “Take them off,” he hisses through his teeth, that doll voice searing like shrapnel in Tom’s ear and Tom fucking loves it, how simple his brother’s depravity is and it makes Bill that much more decadent, invaluable. A small smile teases Tom’s lips, he’s still very much in charge but he can feel Bill violently racing towards him, so ready to overthrow him and watch him burn at his feet.

This is the chase that they both adore, the fleeting of sweetness and good things lost like tragedies they swear to undo by painting red and blood on cream and skin, hard bodies breaking like glass and they scar so perfectly, the pain dilutes into a cloudy euphoria and Bill’s voice sounds like thunderstorm when he cries for Tom, words slurred and whimpered, his eyes fluttering back into his skull as Tom is buried balls deep in the prettiest part of him, desecrating him so purely, his fingers scampering across the sheets, seizing tufts of white and black between his fingers as he’s fucked just as he dreamed and it makes him smile gleefully, wearily, his thoughts buzzing with cloud nine and his head sinking into his pillow. Bill watches Tom through half moon lids and he nearly comes at how he looks; like heaven abandoned.

**Author's Note:**

> so i listened to the weeknd tonight and this kind of happened. i highly, highly fucking recommend listening to the weeknd if you're wanting to write some heavy filth. the song used was 'thursday'. very beautiful. it's been a while since i've written some kaulitzcest, been taking a break, a lot of personal things happened and i kind of stopped???? but every now and then things like this happen and my heart hurts happily from writing n _ n


End file.
